New
by PurpleTongue
Summary: Roxas was always there, watching; waiting; crawling with the urge the rip through. Rated T for gore.


To be correct, he wasn't a person, let alone an actual _he._ More of an _it,_ and sometimes even those two letters had too much justice to be used to describe that _thing_ - merely a thing living in another's body. Technically speaking, he didn't exist. The Nobody was trapped, confined, smothered by a ribcage and seated on a stomach; where he lie was where his Somebody's heart was. It was locked in _his_ heart. It was possible… was it possible to rip a way through? Somehow thinking of how satisfying the sound of cracking bones and organs slipping out of skin slits made it lick its lips.

But, despite the raw burning in his hollow chest, there were no hands before him to rip and tear through flesh and bone and no lips to crack bones and slurp blood.

The lust stayed, untouched. Waiting.

An image seared through its mind - if it was possible for it to conjure such a thing. White sands; a beach. Green leaves and scratchy surface; a palm tree. And finally a girl: wine hair and blue sky eyes. All happiness and memories and life. She was there, sitting on the shoreline, poking absentmindedly at the minnows gathering to her exposed toes. They boy watched, unspoken, standing, calm as the ocean and as silent as a grave.

Something swelled inside the Nobody's chest - which, of course, turned out to be _his_ chest. A warm fuzzy feeling, like swallowing butterflies that sat on the bottom of his stomach.

Love? Ha! Like that was possible.

… Was it?

Absolutely not. Impossible. The emotions collecting in the Nobody's "mind" and "body" was a false promise and an even more false sensation. What was he to do? Ignorance would not have been bliss in this moment. Love was rare to come by, and this was_ pure_ love. Something not to pass or neglect. It was mean tot be embraced, to be drunken greedily like the most expensive wine.

Wine… like her hair…

It squirmed, the heat growing in his small cubicle suffocating. It writhed, uncomfortable. Begging the boy to stop and turn away, to switch his feelings off so he could for more driftwood or race that platinum haired boy again. Just so the Nobody could be selfish and return to his self-pity. There would have been nothing better - nothing to look forward to - than blank pictures or darkness, stark black staining its eyes, if he could muster those along with his "mind" and "body".

It briefly wondered what it would look like if it had a face and being. Maybe a name too, just to add for a better feeling of belonging. Sandpaper hair… oddly spiked, swishing to the side as if a fan were blowing. Eyes to mirror his Somebody's; that pretty azure or a beautiful, gleaming aquamarine. A body, lithe and slightly on the short side, copying the Somebody's physique…

Perfect. He belonged. It was now a _he,_ but it would be better if he had a name.

But he truly had not desire one, clueless as to why one was needed. Weren't they all the same? Skin and hair and thoughts and emotions. What made them different? Names? A collection of letters that rung like a bell when said aloud?

What was frightening was that he thought of a name whilst he was "thinking."

Was he honestly a person now? He created his image and name. weren't those the basic necessities to a human?

Personality. Quiet, distant, easily distracted.

Was he now done?

He believed so. Now he can quench that nagging feeling to rip with his new hands and make his Somebody into a pile of bones and flesh so he can finally stop this burning love right in its fucking tracks.

Reaching out, he grasped hold of a ribcage a brand new light shinning for him. That light that waited realization to dawn so he could tear a way through his stifling heart.

So puny and weak it was. It was helplessly vulnerable, easy to turn into gell between his fingers.

Now he definitely belonged.

Lacing his fingers around the ribcage, he yanked back, barely feeling the sharp pull he shared for his Somebody. Fuck that. _He_ was the Somebody now.

He heard the boy scream in pain. Then he saw light. Bright, immaculate light beaming down on him and warming his new skin.

New… was that the correct word? It was more like "free."


End file.
